


Sand and Sugar

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Best Friends, Chefs, Cooking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Good Friend Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, It has a happy ending I swear, Jealousy, Loneliness, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oblivious, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, bad needs a hug, no beta we die like l'manburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26420815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everything was calm in the Munchy restaurant, until a new chef comes to shake Bad's entire world with his extraordinary personality.Meanwhile, Bad's also thinking about a theory based on caramel...Aka my take at a Chef AU with Executive Chef BBH and Amateur (kinda) Skeppy.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 27
Kudos: 175





	1. Toffee Muffins

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't ship real people, this fanfic features their online personas, that's why no real names are used! Also, please respect their relationship and don't shove the ship in their faces. Be nice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :P
> 
> I thought I wouldn't write any more skephalo, but the reception of my first fanfic was so awesome, that I decided that I could do another one :) (plus, the inspiration just striked). 
> 
> Anyways, in the other fic I used — instead of "", so I wanted to try "" In this one. I hope I did okay. 
> 
> Oops, I almost forgot; there is going to be a DreamNotFound cameo in the future. It's a little one, so you can just skip it if you want.

The birds singing outside of my house feels exceptionaly loud as I open my eyes. Sun rays enter through my window glass, iluminating my bedroom and revealing Rat snoring next to me, curled up in herself. Energy drinks can's rest by my desk, all the way across the room. 

Mornings hit harder when you drank unhealthy amounts of caffeine the night after. 

"Morning, Rat." I mutter, giving my dog a pat on her head. She doesn't move a muscle. 

Waking up, dressing up, feeling down. Routine. 

With a small yawn, I enter the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for a busy day in _Munchy_.

 _Munchy_ was a decently popular restaurant in central LA. Two of my best friends founded it a couple of years ago, and recluted me and George as the first chefs. I've watched our small business go through bad times and good times, but nowadays things seemed to be a lot better. It feels like yesterday we were all covered in flour, laughing at the top of our lungs while trying to figure out how things worked, but now we have a team behind us. 

And another member was on his way. 

Last week we ran some interviews for a position in my kitchen, selecting a group of people, interviewing and testing them, with the objective of finding the best fit to the restaurant. A boy with deep brown eyes and tan skin made some extraordinary _caramel parfaits_ that made us lick our fingers, winning the job. He will start working today, under my tutoring. 

I step into the hot water, thinking about this new guy, and hoping he isn't a muffin and learns things fast. 

When I finish, I go back to my bedroom to pick a casual outfit. A red T-shirt and some black jeans capture my attention and, while I put them on, my gaze lays over the energy drinks can's and my laptop, which is still on. 

"I should probably turn that off." I whisper to myself, walking towards it. 

As I sit down, the screen lights up, showing a YouTube video that was paused. The thumbnail was a beautiful tear shaped glass vase. Out of curiosity, I resumed it, realizing it was one of those "satisfactory videos" of crafting things. My index finger lays on the space bar, ready to pause the video again and close the computer, until the guy in the video takes a metal stick with the melted glass out of the oven. Then, he takes the tip of the pipe to his lips and starts blowing it. 

I watch, amused, as the man blows the glass, then takes it to the oven, and then he blows it again. He repeats it a couple of times, but my mind is no longer fixated on the process. 

Hurriedly, I google " _Reynold Poermono"_ on YouTube, finding the video I was looking for almost immediately. This thumbnail, unlike the other, showed a beautiful sweet. The base of the dessert are apples, ordered in a way it resembles a small circle, some kind of -also circular- cake acts as a second layer and at the top is a neatly placed scoop of something that seems like ice cream, with edible flowers above it. The "ice cream" part is covered in a caramel dome. 

I click on the video as I wait for the action to happen. 

And _there_ it is. 

The chef makes some caramel and places it on the tip of another smaller pipe, with a rubber pear on the other side of it. He pumps the instrument as the caramel starts to inflate, just like the molten glass had done. Reynold, however, wasn't convinced, and discarded the first piece. He repeated the process step by step once again, obtaining an even more perfect sphere, causing him to crack a smile. 

The final dish was absolutely astonishing. Every element was highlighted both on their own and as a whole. The color scheme was delicate and vibrant, catching your eye. I could only imagine the flavours contained in those combined ingredients. 

The video went normal after that. The jury loved the dessert, just as expected, and the chef won the first place on that round. 

I was now looking at the thumbnail again, the platform automatically pairing me with the next video, although my mind couldn't deny the idea that was bugging me.

Sand and sugar are pretty similar. 

Think about it. Their textures are similar, they are both rocks, they are both quite abundant, they can both be melted to create "clear" substances and they both get everywhere. The only difference would be... well, the taste and the fact that sand is usually hated, while sugar is usually loved (or _prefered_ instead of salt). 

Holding into that thought, I finally turn off the pc, walking towards the door as I realize I might be a little late. I can't make a bad impression on the amateur muffin that was joining us today! 

* * *

Turns out I wasn't the one making a bad impression. 

This muffin, whose name is _Skeppy_ , did not only arrive late, but he greeted me like I was one of his co-workers when I'm _technically_ his boss! How dare he! 

"Sorry, dude, how was I supposed to know?" The brunete excused himself with a grin. "That's how I greet everyone!"

" _Okay_ , just remember I'm your superior, alright?"

"Alright."

"Okay. Your first task is..." I said, adding a pause for a more dramatic introduction. "... dishes!"

Skeppy's face was from pure disappointment. I could almost feel how his jaw dropped and he looked at me like I was joking. I take out my bandana from my apron pocket and I put in on, being both stylish _and_ comfortable while cooking.

"But-... but-"

"No _but's_ , you need to earn your place on the kitchen and you need to know, as well, every station in your kitchen." I walked towards the kitchen faucet and the dishwasher. "Here," I took a plate for him and one for me. "I also did dishes for some time, I did every position till I reached _Executive Chef_. You must do the same, but you can only apply to _Sous Chef_ , because I don't plan on retiring any time soon." 

The smaller boy (just by an inch) stood up by my side, starting to wash the dishes too. His semblant was serious, almost resented, but his body language demonstrated that he understood my point. 

"I've got work to do, so I'll leave you to it. Don't worry, you've got this!"

I leave the muffin to do his work while I walk towards my favorite station, main courses. The main courses station included all the gourmet dishes that take some time to prepare, including elaborate foods like ratatouille or less elaborate, but time consuming, foods, like steak, or another kind of meat. 

I look at the order's wheel, discovering it almost empty, with a single paper clipped. I take it. 

"Toffee bites." It says. I look at George, the pastry chef, whom is plating the last sweets we had. We are out of them, so he'll need to make more soon. It's been a while since I made toffee... "Hey, George, I'll take care of the toffee bites! Take a break, buddy."

He looks at me with a grateful look, and nods. Chocolate and caramel were one of my specialties, so why not help a friend? 

I head towards the pantry as I go over the ingredients in my head. _Sugar, chocolate disks, pecans, salt and vanilla essence_. Then I go to the freezer section of the room. _Butter_. 

Hurriedly, with materials on hand, I return to my station. I start with measuring sugar, salt and butter, before throwing them together in a heavy bottomed 3 quart pot. Meanwhile, I oil a baking dish and I put some parchment paper on it. Going back to the soon-to-be toffee, I stirr the mix softly. Then, my left hand goes to open a cabinet, taking a thermometer out, which will help to know when is it ready. My right hand continues stirring, but my left hand starts crushing some pecans and spreading them on the baking dish. 

My mind could be focused in multiple tasks by now, an hability I've learned after years on the business. Although, it's also an inconvenience, because now I tend to get bored when I'm doing only one thing, like stirring caramel. 

My thoughts wander to the new muffin. He was just a little bit smaller than me, with tan skin, brown hair and brown eyes. His irises showed a glow I couldn't quite catch, but they intrigued me. And his body language told me he could follow orders, but wasn't fond of it. That's the information I've gathered at the moment, although I've only known him for less than an hour. 

"Fudge!" The words scape my mouth when I see the toffee just reached 305°F, 5°F more than needed. 

I take the pot out of the fire and I add the vanilla, before pouring it on the baking dish. The toffee needs to rest before going to the freezer. Great, now to _sous vide_ the chocolate. 

Grabbing a pot and a glass bowl, I add water to the pot and I boil it. When it's boiled, I put the bowl on top and I throw the chocolate disks. With my spatula and enveloping movements, I stir them until they are completely melted. Like the first time, I pour the substance on the baking dish, on top of the warm toffee. 

With a sigh, I take a step back to admire my work. It's impecable, but it needs _something_ else... 

"Some more pecans never killed somebody." I mutter, grabbing some more crushed pecans and distributing them over the dessert. "Perfect."

When I raise my gaze to check if they are more orders, I found a couple of papers on the wheel. It looks like the day has just started.

* * *

"Hey, _Bad_ ," Skeppy looks at me with a playful look. "I finished the dishes!"

At his station, white plates lay stacked over each other. The boy looks proud of his accomplishments, not noticing there were more dishes coming his way. 

"Great, Skeppy." I said. Today I was in a good mood. "If you continue like this, you can move to salads next week."

"Yes!" He cheered. "Thank you, dude."

"No problem, just continue your job." My lips formed a smile almost involuntary at the sincere tone the brunete used. "And remember that I'm your boss!"

"Yeah, yeah." He dismissed. 

I hope we made the right choice with him. 

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Reaching it and checking, I realise it's time to take out the toffee and break it. 

I walk towards the freezer, grabbing the baking dish and placing it in the nearest counter, then I go to the cabinet of special utensils, next to the pantry, where I find a small hammer. Smashing toffee was my prefered activity after a stressful day, perfect to release tension. 

The hammer goes up and then down, impacting with the chocolate covered sweet, crashing it in big enough segments to eat in two bites. The way the sections looked and the way the toffee broke made me remember the glass video of this morning. 

_Both sand and sugar can be melted into a "clear" substance, and then broke into pieces._ Interesting _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Yeah. 
> 
> Good idea? Bad idea? Hotel? Let me know! 
> 
> Fun fact: In this fic, Rat is named rat because of ratatouille. Think about how cute is that :L
> 
> And I hope the next chapter would be in less than a week from now :)


	2. Leche Asada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Leche Asada" means "Baked milk" in English, btw. Its a common dessert in my country, and its very delicious. 10/10 would recomend.

Half a month has passed since this " _Skeppy_ " muffin has arrived. His performance in the kitchen has been flawless, ascending quickly from station to station until he reached _Meats_ , the specialty he was supposed to be judged on, today, and decided if he was the perfect fit for this job. _Meats_ wasn't my field of expertise, but I could easily differentiate between a professional and an amateur cook, so it was my opportunity to test how he works under a lot of pressure, how is his technique, and how familiar he is with cooking terms like " _medium rare_ " or " _well cooked_ ".

Rewinding to the last days, they have been incredibly... _unexpected_. He and I have discovered we have more in common than we thought. Through late night chats, after both our shifts had ended and everyone had gone home, we shared past experiences, hobbies and phone numbers. 

Skeppy likes videogames, just like me, and told me he would have become a YouTuber if it wasn't for an scholarship in gastronomy he was offered. Though, he still plays Minecraft in his free time, and asked me if we could play together one time, to which I gladly accepted. 

In exchange, I asked him if we could bake together one time.

And so, the promise was sealed.

The next night we sat and played Minecraft for two hours, till we got to the end (Skeppy died a few times, but he won't admit it) and killed the ender dragon, beating the game. We both stared at the awkwardly at the credits before realising it was the most fun we've had in a long, long time. 

Our friendship grew stronger, to the point I felt like we've known each other for years. 

While I was remembering the happy snippets we shared, a green eyed man enters my office, with some paperwork in one hand and a folder in the other. Dream is one of the managers of Munchy, along with Sapnap, and one of my best friends, along with George. 

"Hey, Bad." He said, with a contagious smile adorning his factions. "Today we need to evaluate Skeppy's performance in the kitchen. You didn't forget, right?"

"Of course I didn't forget! That muffin and I are quite fond of each other"

"Yeah, I've noticed." Dream moved his brows up and down. " _Very fond_ of each other."

"I don't understand what you are insinuating" I stand up from my chair as I start walking towards the office door. 

"You like him, don't you?"

I stopped dead on my tracks, with my hand laying on the door's knob. My cheeks burned at the thought of me liking Skeppy. 

"Wha- What makes you think that?" The taller guy tried to speak, but I interrupted him. "Just because I'm _gay_ I have to like every muffin I see?"

"Well that's unfair to _me_ , Bad. You know I'm bisexual myself."

"I know, but I don't like him that way." He kept silent, his gaze telling me all I needed to know. "C'mon, you muffin, I can't hang out with my new friend without having romantic feeling, yet you and George flirt all the time and y'all keep saying you are _just friends_."

Silence. Dream's eyes looked away from mines. He bit his lip, like he was holding on something. I knew that would make him shut up, he hates when I bring up his friendship with the pastry chef. 

"That's what I thought." My hand went to open the door once and for all, almost leaving the room, but not before I said one last thing. "I won't say anything anymore if you don't either."

When I left, I was conflicted. Happy to have shut up Dream's, and hopefully have opened his eyes ( _Seriously, those muffins will end up together one day, I swear to God_ ), though sad because I hate discussing, especially with friends like Dream, Sapnap or George. 

Anyways, I hope Skeppy does good in meats.

* * *

"He deserved it, that beef wasn't the best I've had, but it certainly fits in the top 30." Sapnap expressed, his eyes shining with a hint of proudness. "Skeppy definitely did better than expected."

"I agree." I said, also proud of the accomplishment of the boy I've been technically tutoring. "That _muffin_ dominated the technique, understood instructions perfectly and performed excellent under pressure."

"I'm glad he is in our kitchen." Sapnap smirked mischievously, a bad signal. "Should I shoot my shot?"

"What?"

"Y'know. _Slide into his Dm's, Netflix and Chill_..."

"I don't know what those mean, but I did hear you the first time. Don't you have a girlfriend?" I was confused both at Sapnap and at the extrange feeling in my guts. 

"Yeah, but he is cute."

" _SAPNAP_!" I panicked. 

"Woah, seems like he is taken." He raised his hands in a sign of defeat. His smirk stayed, like a constant tease at me. "Relax, I would never cheat on her, it was a joke. And he isn't my homie, you know I'm _homiesexual_."

I was about to respond something about being a fateful muffin and not making jokes about his sexuality (He confused me so many times when I thought he was _homosexual_ ), when a familiar voice came into my peripherals. 

"Bad!" Speaking of which, Skeppy walked in my direction. "Bad, I already finished today's orders. Can we bake together now? _Please_...?" The brunete said, making the most adorable puppy eyes he could. 

I looked around, finding the kitchen pretty empty and quiet, except for Sapnap. I've tried delaying cooking together because I didn't want to interfere in his training or influence his cooking style in a way he had an unfair advantage when we judged him. Now, however, the judging was over and his position was permanent, so I didn't have any excuses. 

" _Sure._ Sapnap, you okay...?" I turned around to ask Sapnap if he was fine with going home early, but he was nowhere to be found. He disappeared in thin air. "Guess he had things to do..."

"C'mon! I have everything ready!" The shorter boy holder my hand as he walked us to the counter that had some ingredients above it. 

"But, _Geppy_ , I want to do this recipe-"

"W-What did you just called me?" He stared at me wide-eyed. 

"I-" I gulped. "I thought of this nickname yesterday... does it bother you?"

"No," Skeppy's gaze went down, finding the floor interesting. He seemed flustered. "It's kinda _cute_ , actually..."

The floor, in fact, was quite interesting. 

"Anyways," The brunete broke the small awkward silence that had settled. "What recipe would you like to do, then?"

"Oh!" I went to my office, returning with a book I've grown fond to. "It's a _Chilean_ recipe I learnt from one of my teachers. I think you will like it."

I placed the book in one of the kitchen counters, opening it on the Page 214, a page that had a permanent corner on my memories. 

The rusty chapters slipped through my fingers as I turn the sheets over and over. Each recipe brings back memories. Memories of my harsh years of culinary studies, memories of lonely nights with homemade pasta and a glass of wine, memories of my three best friends having the time of their lives in this very kitchen. 

A smile has plastered in my face as my whole being is filled with unfiltered happiness when I reach the recipe I was searching for: " _Leche Asada_ ". I almost forgot I wasn't alone. 

"Hey, you ok?" A voice next to me spoke. "Bad?"

"Uh?" I blinked, realizing my vision started to get blurry. "I'm fine, just... _memories_."

"Yeah? What memories?"

"The first day I worked here..." I started. My voice was soft and calm, like I was telling him a secret. "Dream, George, Sapnap and I knew almost nothing about running a business. We messed around with ingredients and we baked a celebration cake. It was awful." We both laughed, soft laughs, trying not to break the atmosphere. "But we had fun, and that was all that mattered for us at the moment. The best day of my life, easily."

I move my gaze from the book to Skeppy, whom is looking at me with a loving smile. The corner of his eyes lift up and I can barely see his white teeth. He watched my every movement with a twinkle in his eyes I couldn't understand. 

"You are a fucking idiot." His tone is light hearted, making the swear so... domestic, in a way. 

" _Language_."

"What?"

"We are applying for a campaign with an orphanage, so we decided to erase the habit of swearing in the kitchen. Didn't Dream told you this? I'm pretty sure it's in the contract..."

"Oh..." Silence. " _Fuck me_ , then."

"Geppy!"

"Chill, chill." The brunete's laugh filled the room. "It's a _fucking_ joke."

"SKEPPY, STOP!" I swear to God, this muffin is going to be the death of me. 

He laughed for a solid five minutes, trying to get into my nerves everytime he was given the opportunity to. Although, I wasn't really mad with him. Something about his soft voice, the joking tone in his words and the smile that he makes with his whole face. _He's cute_. 

After he calmed down (after we _both_ calmed down), we gathered the ingredients needed. Eggs, milk, sugar, lemon zest and vanilla essence. 

I was making sure the ingredients were alright, when I see Skeppy carrying a whole egg carton of 30.

" _What the muffin_? Why so many eggs? You'll get sick if you eat so much..."

"But the recipe..."

"Oh." Right, I almost forgot. "The recipe is only to remember the ingredients. The measurements are wrong." The younger boy look at me with confusion. "My teacher had a secret trick under her sleeve. Fortunately, she trusted _me_ enough to tell it to me."

" _And that is_...?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"It's a secret." Winking at him, I go to the shelves to take out a big bowl, a cookin pot and a deep baking tray. "You'll have to look away when I add the _secret ingredient_!"

As I return to the counter, materials in hand, Geppy waits for me to give him instructions. 

"You can make the caramel, I'll beat the eggs."

He nods and then he is gone. 

Meanwhile, I crack 8 eggs in the bowl I brought with me. Later, I turn on the red stand mixer, placing the raw ingredients under the whisk. The kitchenware monotonely spins and spins.

So boring. I wonder what Skeppy's doing. 

I decide I should check on him. Though I'm certain he won't burn anything, because he is not a kid, I'm worried he might have messed up at somepoint. 

"Skeppy, how you-?"

The other boy is - _technically_ \- doing what I asked him to do, but he is doing it completely wrong. Plus, he burnt whatever he was cooking right now. I forgot he is, _indeed_ , mentally a kid. 

" _Sorry_." He apologized with puppy eyes. "I got distracted..." 

"But, Geppy," I walked to the frying pan he was using, throwing it at the dirty dishes. "You have to use the baking tray to melt the caramel. It saves you time and money, believe me. And how the muffin did you burn _caramel_?"

"I don't fu-" He stopped, noticing my dead stare at his direction. "I don't _muffin_ know."

"Ahg." I sighed. "It's fine. You are lucky we have money _now_..."

A silence settled, this time being a little bit uncomfortable. I don't like talking about money, that's why I'm just a chef and not a manager. I grew up with just enough to buy food and shelter. No new toys and no new clothes, just second hand things or donations. 

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

I wasn't ready to talk about this with Skeppy. 

"Come here, let me teach you how a professional works!" Trying to change the subject, I walk to my previous station to grab the baking tray, returning to the brunete quickly. Giving him a cocky grin, I step into his personal space and I pour sugar and a couple of spoons of water. "Remember not to stir it, but keep an eye on it."

After that, my steps go to my previous station once again to check on the eggs. They are doing great, fluffy and airy. Meanwhile, on the cooking pot, I pour 1,5L of milk. It doesn't have to boil, but it needs to be hot enough. 

I check on Skeppy. He is concentrated on the caramel, too worried not to make the same mistake twice. 

Carefully, I go to the pantry once again and I grab cornstarch; my secret ingredient. Cornstarch gives a similar effect the eggs do, allowing me to use less eggs and not die from a _sodium overdose_. 

In a separate -smaller- pot, I disolve two tablespoons of the thin material into the 0,5 L of milk I had left. After it's all homogenous and the liquid over the burners is hot, I put both milks together in the larger container. Add vanilla, lemon cest and cinnamon and you have a delicious, thick substance, ready to get away from the fire. 

After everything had rested for a couple minutes, I can incorporate the beaten eggs, and then transfer that into the baking tray with the caramel on the bottom. It all goes to the oven until the top has some brown spots.

The brunete looked at my every movement quiet, _distracted_. 

Great, at least he didn't noticed my trick under my sleeve. 

"Geppy." I call him. He raises his irises at me. "Now _you_ are the one distracted..."

"Your-" He was about to say something, but seemed to regret it at the last second. "Never mind."

"Okay..." Deciding to let it go, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Help me wash the things we used, I don't like to leave the kitchen dirty."

He nodded with his head, as we holded some small talk while we waited for the dessert to be ready and we washed the dirty pots, dishes, kitchenware and utensils. Our hands getting cold yet our hearts getting warmer when we shared happy memories of family and our early years. 

The timer run out, the _Leche Asada_ was outed and then cooled, we said our last words to each other, since we had to part ways, and, just like that, the day was over. 

As I lay on my bed, Rat by my side, I think of the brown eyed boy with an eternal smile and that contagious laugh. The boy that looks at my eyes and manages to make me feel like flying. 

The last image on my mind, slowly falling asleep, is the frying pan with burnt caramel. The one that, despite our best efforts, couldn't get completely clean. Somehow, this makes the corners of my lips go up and my chest feel full with joy. 

_Both sand and sugar are difficult to take out, sticking to frying pans and skin, respectively. Interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, once again, asking for feedback. 
> 
> Pls I am both sleep and love deprived. 
> 
> And I just realized I forgot bad doesn't eat gluten. But I'm too lazy to change the whole story, almost. So this is, technically, canon divergent. 
> 
> Yeah.


	3. Burnt caramel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so so sorry for the delay, but online classes hit me hard D:

Another half a month passed. Geppy has become, officially, one of my best friends, and has been welcomed to _Munchy_ with open arms. 

George, Sapnap and Dream have, also, grown fond of the muffin, and have hanged out with him quite a lot recently. Those late shifts with a nice conversation and intimate moments had turned into loud laughs resonating in the kitchen. 

I'm supposed to be happy, right? I am very happy that all of my best friends get along. 

_Right?_

I shake my head at the doubts. Of course I am happy. Though I can't shake away that strange feeling in my chest, the pinch in my heart that tells me something isn't right. 

The trigger came on one warm Saturday afternoon. 

I was grabbing my jacket and my bag from my office, thinking about muffins and Skeppy, the usual. And as I was turning around a corner, a familiar laugh comes to my ears. 

_It's his laugh._

I can feel how my body reacts instinctively, tensing yet relaxing at the same time, it's both a relief and a worry. 

The sound persists, staying on the air around me for a moment longer, like echo. The joy perceptible in the words that came out of his mouth. 

And I also start to feel giggly, being happy whenever my best friends where happy. Wanting to never stop hearing those angelic noises, be the one that causes them and be the only one that hears them, though that only happens with Skeppy. Maybe it's because our friendship is newer, more recent. Who knows… 

I look back at my steps, trying to identify where his voice is coming from. The kitchen. 

As I get closer and closer to the ajar door, another soft laugh appears. My hand rests on the doorknob, while I stare intensely at the wooden fixture. It's Sapnap. The other laugh is Sapnap. What's Geppy doing with him? 

"Dude, you _are_ funny!" Skeppy says. "I thought all managers are older white males with wife, kids and no sense of humor."

"Please!" Their laughs only stop when the other one is talking, and they resume after every sentence. Sapnap isn't that funny. "That's fucked up."

"Lang-" The words stay on the tip of his tongue for a couple of seconds, but he catches them up. "If Bad was here you would be dead."

"But Bad isn't here."

So that's what I am to them? Just a mildly inconvenience when it comes to swearing? Am I _that_ annoying? 

Trying to gain some courage, I peek through the crack between the door and the doorframe, just to be greeted with a sight I wish I could unsee. 

Under the dim lights of the kitchen, and in front of a baking tray full of raw chocolate chips cookies, where two of my best friends. Skeppy was slightly bent over the counter with a hand on his mouth, muffled laughs exited anyways. Sapnap's hand gently lay on his shoulder, contrary to my hand that was hardly gripping the doorknob. 

A bubbly sensation grew inside me, it hurts my stomach and it makes me angry for a moment. A sensation I haven't feel in years, since I saw kids my age with better things than me, things I couldn't afford. Jealously. 

I am so jealous Sapnap gets to make Skeppy laugh the same way I do. 

Anger quickly transforms into sadness. Being left out and I couldn't bear the thought of being the second option. The thought of not being enough to my best friends.

But this really isn’t about Sapnap, and I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m painfully aware of the one that’s on my mind 24/7, the one that isn’t holding his laugh and is looking at the manager with glossy eyes. I’m so incredibly aware of this familiar feeling deep inside, whom is exited to finally come out.

I may have a _tiny_ crush on Skeppy.

 _Oh_. It’s nice to lift that weight off my shoulders.

And with that thought on mind, I get my hand back to my pocket as I take steps back, still looking at their faces, still laughing, still making me feel defeated.

Back on my house, that feels colder than ever, my only confident is my dog as I snuggle in my bed sheets and I close my eyes, hoping I could erase myself from the narrative.

* * *

I wake up after dinner with the worst combination of feelings; hunger, anger and sadness. Rat, who seems to know what’s happening, looks at me with her big eyes that remind me of blueberries.

 _Blueberry caramel muffins_ sound good.

My lips curve slightly up as I remember the muffins my mom used to do when I wasn’t feeling great as a kid. Those flavorful pastries that used cheap ingredients and the fruits we had on our garden, but tasted like the best thing in the world.

As my feet drag themselves around the house, my mind fills with happy memories of my family, perhaps an unconscious act my brain made to try and lift me up, perhaps just a reminder it’s my mom’s death anniversary in a couple of weeks.

Without being fully conscious of it, I notice I’ve already gathered the ingredients and the only thing left is to start mixing.

First, the caramel. Three cups of sugar should be enough for a muffin tray, don’t forget it needs a tablespoon or two of water.

As I wait for the sugar to dissolve, my thoughts wander to that video where they blow glass with the same technique they blow sugar, and how that same day Skeppy entered both _Munchy_ and my life.

Skeppy…

Suddenly, I hear a loud sizzling coming from the frying pan that had the caramel, which was now burnt. I haven’t burnt caramel in a _long time_ …

“ _F…Fudge_.” I exclaimed, almost swearing, but stopping myself at the last minute.

I watch with hopelessness as the bubbly black substance cools down, drowning myself in a pool of tears coming down from my eyes. Everything is going wrong.

I give up on these muffins, I’m not hungry anymore.

* * *

Morning hits harder after you cried yourself to sleep. Sore eyes and aching heart are a reminder of my solitude. Great. Just the thing I needed. At least Its Monday, because every Monday we close Munchy due to it being our least busy day. So I have all the day to be sad.

Though my plans get interrupted by a phone call, my “ _Last Friday Night_ ” ringtone sounds all around the house, making it impossible to miss it. It’s Sapnap.

Should I answer to that muffin? The same muffin that was flirting with my crush when he _kinda_ knew I was in denial? The muffin that is one of my best friends and has been with me through bad and good times…?

The muffin that is one of my best friends…

To be fair… he didn’t knew I _actually_ had feeling for Skeppy. I’m the one being unfaithful to our friendship, not him.

Damn Skeppy, it’s all his fault.

I get out of bed to get my phone while Rat snores in the background. The room feels so cold compared to the warmness and comfort my bed provided. Now, the freezing air of the morning embraces me and I don’t like it.

“Hey.” Sapnap said when I answered the call. “ _Bad_ , my best friend, my loyal companion, my partner in the kitchen, my buddy!” With a dramatic pause, he continued. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but why are you calling me this early?” I could never not say _I love you_ back, unlike George.

“If you love me, you will help me, right?”

“If I can, then yes, of course.”

“Yes!” The man on the other side of the line cheered. “Today is my one year anniversary with Rose, and I want to do something special for her... but I’ll need your help.”

Right. I almost forgot Sapnap has a girlfriend.

Why is that making me feel a little bit better?

“Of course I will help you with that, dear _sapitus napitus_.” With a smile on my lips, but without my mood completely restored from yesterday, I get involved into his plan. “What do you need?”

“Well…first of all…”

* * *

Though the weeks at the restaurant are exhausting, I don’t mind using my free day to help a friend. I don’t have much to do, anyways, except to play minecraft and chill with Rat.

The city was full with people roaming around it’s streets, walking through like they were ants in the grass. Lined and organized, following one purpose.

I was one of those ants today, though my purpose wasn’t to work or to binge with friends, my only objective was to pick chocolates for Sapnap’s girlfriend. After half an hour trying to convince him that **he** should buy the chocolates, not me, the 19 year old hit me with “You know I know nothing about food, my fields are _numbers and logic_. Help a bro, _bro_.” and got me into this mess.

Though I’m somewhat honored my best friend sees potential in my abilities, I can’t help to ask myself: Why didn’t he went to George? George, our pastry chef, whose specialty are sweets, _the one that knows all about chocolate_.

But I immediately dismiss the idea, focusing on my task at the moment.

Entering a very familiar chocolate factory, in which I’ve already bought one time and I know they have good chocolates, I walk towards the lady behind the counter and ask for her opinion on something for an anniversary. She recommends me one heart shaped box with a red ribbon, I accept it and pay for it.

I was heading to the exit when I see a fluffy hair boy in the corner of my eye. Too important not to be recognized, though I can’t help the knot that forms in my stomach. It’s Skeppy.

_Skeppy is buying chocolates too._

Not too long after, the boy turned around and looks at me. We both freeze in the spot. He is the first one to come out of his shock and approach me.

“Bad!” He greeted me. “ _Wha-What are you doing here?_ ”

“Hey, Geppy.” My heart aches at the ease the nickname comes out of my mouth. “I was buying chocolates for Sapnap’s girlfriend.”

“So he got you into his plan too?”

“Yes, and you…?”

“I was helping him with another thing…” The smaller one scratches the back of his neck with a nervous expression and looks at the floor for a second, before returning his gaze to mine. “…and I got sidetracked to buy chocolates. For myself. To buy chocolates for myself.”

I laugh at his nervousness, though I was just as nervous.

We hold a small chitchat. With every word he says my chest pound a little bit harder, making me feel afraid he’ll listen to my fast heartbeat. My hands are sweaty as his mere presence overwhelms all my senses.

He offers to drive me to the beach, the place Sapnap asked me to bring him the chocolates, the place Sapnap had a surprise for his significant other.

The drive feels short. I could listen to that muffin for hours, but never grow tired of it.

As we hand the things we bought to a very anxious Sapnap, I think about my day.

Looking back, it feels like a rollercoaster. From feeling down in the morning, to pulling myself together, to falling for those blue eyes, again, like an idiot.

And as we both sit on the shore (it was just for a minute, to make the trip worth it), and I ignore Skeppy’s hand lying _not-so-sneakily_ above mine, I discover I’ve _fallen hard_ for that muffin. It can be because of the butterflies on my stomach, or it can be because I completly ignored the sunset to look the reflection of the sun on his face.

It was worth it.

_With my other hand I can feel the sand below me, like small rocks. Its texture resembles me of something with similar characteristics. Interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell Im bad at describing scenery? :)
> 
> Btw, I seriously considered Sapnap saying hey mamas at the phone. And ive read a couple of fics in where Sapnap’s gf is called Rose, so I’ll call her that in here too.
> 
> Don't kill me pls


	4. Crème brûlée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small update: I haven't forgotten about this, it's just that I've been struggling with online classes a lot. I'm sorry for the delay, but the final chapter will be up before the end of October. 
> 
> Also, I changed my username because I'm too scared that my favorite mutuals on Twitter find this and then hate me lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not satisfied with this chapter so, once the fic is finished, I may rewrite and fix all the chapters. Also, I wrote ths chapter ONLY on my computer (phone writing gang) so if the style seem off, thats why. The other chapters are only writted on my phone, cause I have written there all my life, and this is my first time using my laptop to do so.
> 
> Anyways, subscribe to Technoblade.

Monday went by in a blink, Tuesday arrived and I wasn’t ready.

I’m not ready to come back to the place where I watched something that felt like a punch in the face. I’m not ready to face the problems it carries, the implications it suggests. But here I was, standing by the front door looking like an idiot, _feeling_ like an idiot.

It’s unbelievable that, in just a month, just one muffin could turn my whole world upside down, leaving me lost, drowning in his ocean blue eyes.

Still hesitant _(maybe I could fake being sick… but I don’t like to lie…)_ , I rest my palm on the doorknob, opening the door slowly.

_Under the dim lights of the kitchen, and in front of a tray with a dark tipe of glass- no, it was solidified burnt caramel, where two well known silhouettes. The smaller one was slightly bent over the counter with a hand on his face, muffled laughs that sounded stangely familiar exited anyways. The other one’s hand gently laid on its shoulder._

_I want to run far away from the scene. Shadows start to evaporate away, revealing that image that was haunting me._

_The silhouettes were Skeppy and Sapnap._

I open my mouth to scream, though my vocal chords don’t react. My throat feels dry and my eyes watery. A snap brings me back to reality.

“Bad.” A pair of green eyes stare back at mines. “Are you ok?”

“Dream.” I say. “Dream, I… I…”

“You stood there for, like, five minutes… staring at the void…”

“I’m fine.” No, I’m not. “Just a little bit tired, that’s all.”

“Sure…” The man looked at me with a sad knowing grin. Of course he knows, he is too good at reading people, that’s why he knows I won’t talk about it, no matter how much he pressures me. Such a muffin. “You haven’t seen my _boyfriend_ , right?”

“George was supposed to be here long ago…?”

“Yeah, you know him… my _boyfriend_ …”

“Yeah.”

The blonde guy opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it at the last second, and, instead, replaced it with a giggle. I don’t understand the joke.

“Whatever, if you see George, you know, **_my boyfriend_** , tell him I’m on my office”

“’Kay.”

Already half recovered from those scary shadows I thought I saw, I decided I could start preparing for the day. It’s going to be a long day, Tuesdays are always very busy.

Wait, did Dream say boyfriend…?

“Holy muffin!” I exclaimed. “Since when are you two together?! DREAM WHEN WHERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL ME?!”

* * *

“HOLY SHIT!” A loud bang resonated in the kitchen as one of our waiters came running toward us.

“ _Lang_ -“ I stopped when I saw the guy’s pale face. “What happened?”

“Its- It’s _him_ …”

“Fudge. I’ll take care of him.” I extended a shaky hand to him. “His order?”

Everyone went quiet as soon as the commotion started, but the silence grew stronger and denser by each second. Nobody even dared to ask who this mysterious guest was, nobody except one person.

“Who is _him_?” Said Skeppy, behind me.

The anxiety bubbling inside me didn’t allow me to get jumpy due to his closeness. I was so defensive and tense that I could be easily confused as a statue.

“ _Peter O’Toole_. That muffin almost ruined _Munchy_ one time, and he is back for more.”

“What-?”

“A food critique.”

“ _Aw shit._ ”

Running past the small crowd that gathered by the doors, I adjusted my bandana and took out my glasses. Hygiene must be my top priority and I have myopia, which makes my shorter vision better than my longer one, so I don’t really need my glasses for cooking, _plus_ , most of the times they get foggy and slows me. I need all my strength to confront O’Toole, either way well get another bad review that could potentially cost us our Michelin star.

I won’t see my work, _my life_ , get destroyed by this bastard.

The ambiance dissolves into white noise as I work on the main dish, making sure every little detail is where its meant to be, creating a pleasing aesthetic, both to the palate and the eyes. My movements go by a blur, my shorter vision made it easy to concentrate at my tasks at hand, though things from afar, like faces or ingredients, looked blurry.

The first victim of my temper walks by my side, unknowing of their destiny.

“You!” I shout to them. “Bring me 500gr of _truffles_ , 500gr of _unsalted butter_ , the jar of my _special sauce_ , _rosemary_ , _cumin_ , _garlic_ and a kilo of _sugar_. **Now**.”

The blurry figure trembles, runs and disappears from my vision.

Continuing to work on the main plate, I ran my sleeves through my forehead, stopping the sweat from coming down.

“Where is this guy?” I sigh, trying to maintain my composure.

I need the ingredients now; a single second off time could cost us important points on O’Toole’s well-known notepad.

While I’m paying attention to the presentation of the plate, I sneak a small glance at the kitchen doors windows, those small circles that were foggy almost half of the time, but aren’t now. My blurry vision could only distinguish the food critique silhouette holding his chronometer, though I’m positive the guy is also wearing that cocky smile he wore when he delivered me his entry on the newspaper, a week after he came to _Munchy_ for the first time.

We don’t have time.

“Where are my _fucking_ ingredients?!” I lost my temper, my own mind being the biggest traitor. “I need them for yesterday! Hurry the _fuck up_!”

All the blurry, colorful shadows, look in my direction, some more surprised than others. From the pantry, a figure comes towards me. When they are near, I realize my mistake.

It’s Skeppy.

Instant regret fills me up, making me feel like a horrible person, and making me realize the rude muffin I turned into. However, one quick peek to O’Toole’s shade through the windows brings back the anxiety.

And why am I supposed to be nice to the one that broke my heart? Why am I supposed to be nice to the one that made me cry for hours, the one that entered my thoughts without permission and doesn’t want to leave? I’m so tired of being nice, only to get destroyed by the ones that I trust the most.

With a swish of my arm, I take the ingredients I ordered from his hands, a frown in my face. He looks confused… _tense_ , almost.

I decide to shove all my thoughts at the back of my head and regain the concentration I needed to end the first dish.

I give it the last details, the finishing touches, and I back up a bit, just to admire its beauty. Not too long later, the runner takes it away, and deposits it on the critiques table.

He stops the chronometer, gives it a look, writes in his notepad for a solid minute, and finally decides to give it a bite. After a tense moment, his lips curve up slightly as he closes his eyes, a clear signal of pleasure.

“He really seems to enjoy it.” A voice says behind me. “ _Relax_.”

Sapnap puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a light squeeze, trying to reassure me. His carefree smile, however, gets on my nerves. The pressure and the expectative to create an even better dessert drag me down.

“I can’t relax now. The first part was easy, here comes the real challenge.” The words came out of my mouth in a serious, angry tone. Maybe a little bit more aggressive than I intended, but I couldn’t back up.

I shake my shoulder, causing Sapnap’s hand to fall to his side. He looks at me with worry. I dismiss it.

Only one word is in my mind: Crème brûlée.

It’s a simple enough sweet that can be done fast, but if done correctly, can be the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten. This time, my own special take at this dish could be the star of the show and I’m here for it. _Go big or go home._

First, the oven gets pre-heated, the cups get greased and a espresso starts getting prepared. Then, I mix milk and cream in a pot, leaving it above a burner. The espresso and a shot of amaretto enter the party, staying all together with a low while I beat the eggs.

The eggs get beaten until pale and the hot milky coffee comes back again. Slowly, it all gets incorporate well. The last step is whisking the sugar in, which I do gracefully.

As fast as I can, because my time is running out, I pour the mix equally in the cups. My hands shake and the bowl is burning the tip of my fingers, but my hands are used to resisting the burns I’ve gotten in all these years I have been cooking and baking. They go in the oven for 20 minutes and they get taken to cool off for 10 more.

I take them out of the freezer to sparkle sugar on top of them. The blowtorch does the rest of the job; burn the sugar just enough so it can caramelize and then solidify quickly _and_ beautifully.

And as soon as they are ready, they are gone.

* * *

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for half an hour.

In my office everything is so calm, compared to the chaos that the kitchen transforms into. The clock ticks and ticks and ticks. Seconds, minutes, maybe hours pass, but I’m mesmerized by nothing and everything at the same time. O'Toole's presence leaved the restaurant just like it came; in a blink and without notice. He didnt said a thing, so I'm assuming it wasnt that bad. 

Also, my feet hurts.

A knock can be hear on the door and, without a confirmation from my side, _Sapnap_ comes in.

“ _Hey_.”

“ _Hey_.”

He hesitates for a moment, but ends up entering and closing the door behind him. His expression is unreadable, thought I can tell something is bugging him.

We both stare at each other, till he is the one brave enough to speak.

“You know you are one of my best friends, _right_?” Sapnap asks.

“Yes, I know. You are one of my best friends too.” My eyes are stuck in the ceiling, but this chat has definitely captured my attention.

“ _What the fuck_ is bothering you?”

“Language.” I answer. My tone is flat, emotionless.

“Oh, _come on_. That’s very hypocrite of your part, Bad.” His voice starts to rise.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Trying to defend myself, I just aggravate my friend’s suspicions.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Do I need to remind you of the ‘ **Where are my fucking ingredients?!** ’ guy?!”

“ _Okay, that’s_ -“ I speak, though he is faster than me and shuts me up inmediatly.

“No! You will listen to me _Mr. Halo_!” The taller one exclaimed. “You’ve been weird since yesterday, especially around Skeppy, which is _super suspicious_. Today, Dream told me he found you on the front door staring at nothing, and now you _swear_! I can count with one hand the number of times I’ve heard you _swear_ , and those have been in different occasions, but now you _swore twice_! In a row!”

Silence fell in the room. The only sound was Sapnap’s agitated breathing due to the commotion. Instead of looking at the roof, my eyes were pinned to the floor now, ashamed of my behavior.

“The worst part is that you went into your _sweaty mode_.” He continued. “The last time you went that sweaty while cooking was when… when your mother died.”

With the mention of my mother, tears started to run down my checks, tears I didn't realize I was holding.

“I know! But my- my chest hurts so much…” I exploded, unable to hide all this feelings anymore. “I- I don’t know what to do… _I can’t lose him because of this_ …”

“You love Skeppy, don’t you?”

“How did…. How did you knew?”

“It’s painfully obvious.” Sapnap, once again, put a hand on my shoulder, though this time it did comfort me a bit. “He’ll be stupid if he hasn’t noticed. I'm positive he feels exactly the same, dude.”

Is it possible? Is it possible that he feels the same?

“He probably hates me now…” Running a hand through my messy hair, I sighed. “I _shouted_ at him…”

“If you apologize now, he may forgive you.”

“I should probably do that.” When my mind seems calmer and I’m starting to heal, a painful memory crosses my mind.

Well. _Go big or go home._

“Why are you helping me? Don’t you like him too?”

The knot on my throat intensifies as my words come out.

After a hot minute of tension, the other boy breaks into laughter. I stare at him in confusion.

“I’m not gay, dude!” With only that phrase, I feel a weight get off my shoulders immediately. “I’m _hom **ie** sexual_, not _homosexual_. You know I support y’all but I like puss-“

“Ahhh! I understand but don’t say that naughty word!”

“What naughty word? Pus-?”

“I will talk to Skeppy now!” Using the muffin as an excuse I leave the room before Sapnap can say more no-no words. “Goodbye!”

A weak response is heard from the office.

Now it comes the really hard part.

* * *

“I like you.” I hear behind me as I close the door of the pantry.

I asked Skeppy to come with me here, with the intention of declaring my feelings for the muffin. The pantry was an ideal place for this kind of things; the temperature is the ideal, its kinda soundproof and nobody comes here after working hours.

But it looks like somebody ruined my plans.

“No! I was supposed to tell you that, _Geppy_!” With a pout, I try to hide my blush. _Holy muffin._

“What- _You_ -?” He took a moment to process the moment. “Well, then… then say it.”

“I- I-“ Stumbling, my words can’t seem to leave my lips. “Ahh! You ruined the moment, you _muffin_!”

“Im-… You know what? I’m _not_ sorry.” He took a step towards me. “I’m happy.”

“Me too.”

The confession felt anticlimactic, but made me feel all giggly and warm inside either way. Does it matter when I get to be the reason of the most handsome smile in the world?

“Can I-?” Skeppy started to speak, gulped, and tried again. “Can I kiss you, Bad?”

Unable to contain the joy the shy question filled me with, I rise up my hands to cup the other’s face. It happens in slow-motion; a sight escapes from Geppy’s parted lips as I approach them, it hits my own lips and gives me tickles, then, he slowly starts to close his eyelids and I do the same.

When we connect, the world disappears. My closed eyes enhance my other senses and I notice Skeppy tastes like blueberry, which is weirdly fitting. The kiss is so sweet, just like sugar.

As it evolves and becomes more intense, I am taken aback and I take a few steps backwards, however, some bags of sugar make me stumble and fall, taking the smaller muffin with me to the pantry’s floor.

The first thing we do is laugh at the situation, and everything seems a lot better now.

My hand rests on one of the bags full of sugar that are on the room. I’ve never notice how much we had.

_Sugar is so abundant, just like sand, though it isn’t equally as annoying. Interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ran out of imagination, so sorry if it feels rushed. Btw, Peter O’Toole is the name of the voice actor of Anton Ego (the food critique in Ratatouille) cause I’m a nerd without imagination (srry again) and the Crème brûlée recipe is by Gordon Ramsay, with slight time alterations fro plot's purpose :)
> 
> Also, I need y'all help. Comment some tags I could add, some things you'll like to see on the fanfic, suggestions, etc... I read all the comments and I love to hear you guys insights on the story (and you've spoiled me with all the love <3 <3 <3)


	5. this is not a chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: Hi :)  
> I've thought about this for a while now and I've decided to orphan this story. Im sorry, but I cringe so hard at my writing and I can't come up with an ending for this. I feel like everything went so fast and idk, I would've written the whole thing again but I think its better to just move on :) thanks for understanding.

So, because I feel bad at just leaving y'all with no closure, I'm going to resume what was meant to be the last chapter :)

Basically, they get in a relationship and, eventually, they move into a cabin near the beach. The chapter was meant to end with Skeppy saying "Both sand and sugar adorn beautiful things" to Bad while they lay in the sand and they are both covered in it.

As a little extr scene, the couple would visit the grave of bad's mother and it would've been revealed she was dead i guess (i dont really remember what i was going with that, it was just sitting in my drafts)


End file.
